Phoenix Flynn and the Thesis Statement
by Durnesque
Summary: First impressions are everything in the 1st annual Hunger Games.


**Phoenix Flynn and the Thesis Statement**

Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games.

Chapter 1

Before the electric fences went up, there used to be all kinds of junk you could find in the woods. Most of it was garbage, but every now and then you could find something you could sell, or even better, something you could keep. Normally I went out and scavenged with my friends, but today I went alone. I pulled my boots on and tied the tops as tightly as I could without cutting off my circulation and tied my hair up into a sloppy bun. My hair was beyond damaged. Some parts were short and some were long, some were brown and some were blond. I had accepted the fact that I'd never look like I once did.

But such is the life of a survivor in District 12.

I was born in 2000, and from what I can remember, everything was okay. Me, my mother and father, and my two younger brothers lived in suburban Arizona. I was like any other 12 year old kid. I went to school, ran track, swam, and had a crush on Joe Jonas, that kinda stuff. My life was nothing special. Of course as a 7th grader I thought my life was the shit. Personal preference, I guess. That year, though I didn't know about it at the time, protests and small rebellions were taking place all over the country. These protests "known as Occupy Wall Street" were severely shaking the economic stability of America, and sometimes even hurting the people they protested against.

The bomb was only meant to scare people. Not this.

The bomb went off in 2012, making the entire east coast a barren place, only inhabited by irradiated animals that had somehow managed to survive the blast. I remember it like it was yesterday. The sirens went off, and I mean it was like nothing you'd ever heard before. I thought my head was going to explode from the sheer volume. My teacher, a young man in his early twenties and was normally a pretty laid back guy, was suddenly shouting orders for us to get on the floor and cover our heads. I remember looking around, thinking it was just another drill. And then the first window blasted open. Someone screamed. My teacher, who had been locking the doors and trying to secured things in the room, was blasted back into the lockers, landing right in front of me. I watched a potted tree die right in front of my eyes, transforming from a healthy adolescent tree to a charred twig. The floor rocked. Glass and debris swirled everywhere. And the heat. Oh god, the heat. After what seemed like an eternity, the horror stopped. Everything went eerily silent. Kids were bleeding and crying, in shock, passed out, or just too scared to get up.

"Mr. Butler?" I tried to ask, but my voice was weak and cracked.

He didn't move. Blood pooled on the floor around his head. He was dead. I flung myself off the ground in horror, trying to wipe his blood off my hands. In my haste, I tripped over a chair and fell on my back in a pile of glass. Hot tears spring to my eyes as I scrambled around, but the only thing I managed to do was smear Mr. Butler's blood all over my face.

Somewhere I heard a cry. My brothers!

I ripped the door open and tore down the hallway. My eyes stung from the smoke, but I had to find them. My brothers were in the elementary school across the street, and as I ran I prepped myself for the outside world. Smoke and dirt swirled in the air, making it impossible to see anything. Thousands of papers and car parts and plants flew through the air. I sprinted across the street, but a full bottle of diet coke pounded me in the temple in the middle of the street and I fell to my knees in pain. As I laid there, a car door bounced down the street, narrowly missing me. I army crawled to the curb, where I got up and ran around back to where I knew my littlest brother was. The wind died down enough for me to see, and the first thing I came across was a kid. And entire class of dead kids, out in the garden for earth awareness lay before me. I stifled a scream and continued to the back door to the 2nd grade wing. The door was easy enough to kick down, and I was met with a hundred wails of terror. The 2nd grade teachers were rushing around, trying to gather their kids.

"Sissy!"

My brother was huddled in a corner, a mixture of blood and tears and snot painted on his face. I hugged him, trying to restrain my own fear.

"Are you okay?" I asked, gripping his arms. He nodded, but we both knew neither of us were okay.

"Stay here," I said, and as soon as I got up his cry met my ears.

"Don't leave me!"

I picked him up and we jogged down to the 4th grade wing. From what I'd seen, it seemed like most of the elementary school was alright. Adults bustled around, rounding up scared kids. Kids for once did what they were told, and were forming groups, compiling their supplies. When I opened the door to the 4th grade wing though, utter devastation met my eyes. Children and adults alike were crumpled on the floor, dead or dying. I opened the door to my brother's classroom. Not a soul moved. I spotted my brother's pink cancer awareness shirt and set Jackson on the ground. I was scared, overwhelmingly scared.

"Bubby?" Jackson called. It was dead quiet in here. Windows had shattered and flung large pieces of glass all around the room, severing limbs and killing.

"Bubby?" Jackson asked again, a little louder this time.

"Come on, let's go," I said. I couldn't take it anymore. And then were heard him moan. With light speed, I made it over to him. He coughed out a chest-full of dust, but he was okay. I threw him over my shoulder and picked Jackson up with the other, and we evacuated the classroom. We eventually went home to find our mother dead and our father missing.

After the bomb, there was complete chaos. There was no government to run to for help, and people didn't know what to do. People died, often, of hunger. All the food you could find was irradiated, and without the proper tools, there was no way to cultivate and make do with the land to sow seeds for consumable food. The people that made it past the hunger congregated into what I later found out were 12 main groups, which became Districts. I was in District 12.

There were a few years of peace after the bombing. When I turned 14, an organization came through District 12 with huge sacks of grain and oil, offering to give away their product. All you had to do was write down your name and your district, and they gave you food for free. There was something about this deal that had my brain screaming warnings at me, but I waved them away because I was freaking starving and signed up for as much food as I could get for my family. I did this every year until I was 16, never letting my brother sign up for it. District 12 had really come together in those two years. People had built homes from fallen trees and scrap metal and it finally started to feel like a home. People started talking to one another, and a school system was set up for the children that made it to teach them how to read and write.

And of course, that's when the Capitol rose. Within another two years, the capitol had salvaged enough technology to build brand new buildings and clean food and water, keeping it all for themselves. People were mad, but not brave enough to do anything about it. As the capitol rose, so did the other districts, but in different ways. Districts established jobs and systems. Mayors were appointed, and trained soldiers from the Capitol were sent to aid us. They really wanted us to call them the peacekeepers, but they really didn't do much besides eat our food and sleep in our beds. District 12 found they could mine for metals, and that gave a lot of people jobs.

And that's where we were now. Jackson was in school, and Charlie helped clear out the rubble to expand our District. I tried to find us food in the woods and helped out in the school. We barely scraped by, but we were so happy to be alive and together that the hard times were worth it.

_Tweet._

I stopped dead in my tracks. What the hell was that?

_Tweet tweet. _

I crouched behind a bush, looking around for the source of the noise. I had heard that sound before, but I couldn't quite put my finger on it…

A small bird flew out of the bushes, straight toward my face. I dove to the ground as it flitted harmlessly around, tweeting cheerily. A bird! I hadn't seen one it so long. I laid on the ground for a while, watching it dance around. It eventually got bored of me, so I got up and began my trek. The areas close to our district had been picked clean, but the farther you went, the more stuff there was. I walked for about an hour before I started seeing stuff that looked worthy. Most of it was junk…rusty cans and empty bottles. I picked up an old book, but it was too dirty to read the title. I stored it in my pack and continued moving. I walked for a little while, and that's when I saw it.

A bike.

An actual bike. I would be the best big sister in the world if I brought my brothers a bike. I ran towards it excitedly, a thousand exciting thoughts running through my mind.

BOOM.

I fell to the ground, instinctively covering my head. But that was it. No heat. No shaking. I got up and cautiously crept behind a bush, peering over the shrub to see what was going on.

BOOM.

I practically crapped my pants that time it was so close. A big machine was in the middle of a barren field, cutting up the dirt and land with big curly-Q razors that stuck out from its bottom. Another boom, and dirt and rocks flew everywhere. Men in white uniforms accompanied the vehicle and two guys rigged the explosions. They were totally ignoring all the stuff, just blowing it up and moving on. They were clearing the land for something, and they were coming close, fast. Before I knew it, they were right in front of me, placing the explosive.

"Wait!" I shouted, revealing myself. They were standing right by the bike.

They looked surprised to see someone out here, but they also looked really mean. "Please evacuate the area," one of the guys with the explosives said.

"Okay…but can I just have the bike?" I asked, trying to look as adorable as possible. "I'll leave if you'll just let me have it."

"No. Please remove yourself from the premises."

I felt my mouth slide open in disbelief. "But come on! You guys aren't even using it!"

I tried to step past them, but they shoved me to the ground. One placed his giant boot on my stomach. I struggled to get up, but he pressed down harder, knocking the wind out of me.

"When I lift my foot off you, you have five seconds to get out of my sight before I blow you up too."

I nodded in terror, and he lifted his shoe. I scrambled to my feet, sprinting as hard as I could back home. When I finally reached our house, I collapsed on the floor, gasping for breath. Who were those guys! I peeled my boots off my sweaty feet, and washed myself with a strip of cloth and water. I tried to relax, scrubbing my face and body of dirt. But something just didn't seem right. They were obviously from the capitol. But what were they doing way out here? The guys were wearing the peacekeeper uniform, but the peacekeepers were nice!

Right?


End file.
